Before Everything Is Over
by eden alice
Summary: 'Her life dragging on without him seemed impossible and cruel.' A funeral brings back memories for Jac.
1. Chapter 1

Before Everything Is Over

_because i am doomed to live with you even when i am  
without you - you with your incomplete shoulders. you  
with your rainbow colored lips._

you with your empty hands. your perfumed silence, your  
perfect elegance. you, with the sunlight that leaks out of  
your darkness and into my world.- Before Everything Is Over by George Wallace

One

She pulled her scarf a little tighter across her pale throat. Her coat while sombre and appropriate was not quite warm enough. Although she doubted her clothes would make any difference. It was not the bitter winter wind that left her feeling cold and empty inside. That was down to him, now he was gone and she could not bring herself to look past him. It felt as if her world should have ended when his heart stopped. Her life dragging on without him seemed impossible and cruel.

But then she had been accustomed to cruelty and she had lost him a long time ago, a little less than fifteen years because she was counting. But at least before she had the knowledge that he was still out there and safe placate her. Now he simply ceased to exist she felt his absence like never before.

When she first heard she had been disbelieving and then quickly hysterical, she had cried with such a bone shaking force she thought she might shatter before she stopped. She had cried till she was so exhausted she slept and then hours later she woke with a sense of crushing acceptance, something she was more familiar with. It makes her want to be sick.

Days passed in numbing ordinary routines. She worked and she slept and she ate, nothing changed around her even as she felt her chest constrict and the agony was beyond any physical pain she had ever felt. It felt like something should happen. His death should be acknowledged by the people around her. She wondered if their old colleagues at Holby knew and if they cared. In her frustrated haze she had lost her memories of the past two weeks only to wake for this impossibly solemn day.

No one had taken the time to inform her of the details of the funeral and she was not surprised but it still hurt. She had to read about his death in the cold and distant terminology of the announcement placed in a newspaper after all. The print had blackened her fingertips just like when she had been arrested and thought capable of murder. She had given up so much so that he might live but she stubbornly refused to let them steal her final goodbye.

She kept her distance from the huddle of figures dressed in thick wool coats as dark as the deepest night. The frost riddled grass crunched under her heels a little too loudly and although she knew she was far enough away that they would not notice it still sounded like an intrusion. She did not want to be filled with so much hate. She had spent her life being so angry and hate filled and now she just wished to feel her sadness. She wished to mourn and feel close to him for one last time. Only hate kept on getting in the way. She hated him for dying and she hated his mother for making it clear she had no place at the funeral.

She had visions of marching over and interrupting, of weeping and throwing herself on the coffin because he had loved her, she had more right to be there than any of the rest of them. And maybe the physical demonstration of the pain that tore her insides to pieces would make living seem a little more possible. Only she knew she would never do it, it was not in her nature and it would never be enough. But she needed some way to expel the bile that she thought might suffocate her.

Maybe it was right that she watched over the proceedings from a distance. It was fitting, after she had hurt him she had spent so long trying to protect him so he would never be so betrayed again. It had not always worked out the way she wanted but she hoped she had redeemed herself enough in his eyes.

The bitter wind brought tears to her eyes even when she thought she had none left. So she closed her eyes as the speaking began, too far away to make out the words she let gentle timber of the religious mans words keep her afloat and buried her gloved hands deep in her coat pockets. This time of year reminded her of when she had first let him go, the desolate coldness of early January, the promise of dark months of winter before the hope of spring. It had come full circle with the changes of the season only now it was as if spring would never arrive, not for her anyway.

She did not believe in any higher power but the clear ritual of the process was almost soothing. Joseph liked order and almost always did as expected and somehow she felt a little closer to him again. Sometimes over the years they had been apart she grew irrationally scared that she would forget just how clear and blue his eyes were or that his soft, brooding and so often clumsily demur would change and the distance would make him a complete stranger. But even after all these years she held on to him tightly within her heart, it was the one place she was determined never to lose him.

Her emotions washed over her like the tide, a strong gravity pulling her in directions that scared her rational mind. But then he had always been the only one to have that effect on her, he was the only one she was able to truly let go and feel around. She thought he understood that without her saying it, she hoped he did.

The coffin was a solid shape made from darkly polished wood, simple, strong and dignified. She wondered if his mother had chosen it and if she ever had the opportunity to be his grieving widow if she would have made the same decision. She stumbled a little when they started lowering the coffin into the solidness of the ground. For one overwhelming moment it was too final. She had never seen his body, it was a regret. If she had seen him, even all cold and still, then this might be easier to except.

Then before she knew it the proceedings were almost over. People she did not recognise started to slowly leave. Faye did not seem to be among them and she was relieved.

His family remained. A small smile pulled at her lips when she took a moment to register the rounded form of Elliot Hope standing shoulder to shoulder with Lady Byrne. He had always been there for Joseph, like the caring father he should have been blessed with. Out of all the people they had worked with while at Holby he was the one she had hoped to see present. Joseph would have been deeply touched.

Her breath caught a little in her throat when her grief numbed mind finally allowed her eyes to settle on the figure between the two adults. He was so very different, taller obviously, and slender as teenage boys could be before growth spurts, but there was something so fundamentally familiar about him. Harry Byrne. The boy stood at his father's graveside holding himself stiff against his grandmother's hand on his shoulder. He stared into the hole that was his father's final resting place. Something warm swelled inside, she saw so much of the man they had both lost in the way he stood, the way he held his shoulders.

She did not realise she was staring until the boy was staring straight back at her with startling blue eyes that she thought she would never see again. She had remembered them so perfectly.


	2. Chapter 2

Before Everything Is Over

Two

_Jac watched as Faye was wheeled away; it did not escape her that the other woman did not even attempt to steal a glance of her son through the huddle of medics that fussed around her. The faint hint of understanding and sympathy with the woman she had spent so long despising was more than a little unnerving. In fact the whole situation was very unnerving and she was so very far out of her comfort zone. _

_She did not need to even glance at Joseph to know that he had not registered his ex wife's departure. He was entirely focused on the small bundled form carefully resting in his arms. Somehow he managed to be totally content, unaware of the world around him and filled with awe and yet totally terrified at the same time. Each emotion played openly over his handsome face, his long dark lashes shadows over his down casted eyes._

_He was tired and worn from a long and emotionally demanding day and so painfully open that it occurred to her that she had never seen him look so beautiful, and there was a tiny terrified thrill that he would ever trust her with this version of himself. That he would allow her to see him at his weakest and let her help him. She never thought she would have that right again._

_The tiny red child in his arms hiccupped and grizzled and Joseph shifted his hold. Hushing his son he softly stroked his tiny cheek with a spare finger, a smile pulled at Jac's lips before she consciously felt the burst of joy. For a second the moment was perfect before she remembered herself, before she remembered the situation. _

_Then it was as if she was an intruder spoiling father and son's first meeting. All she ever did was hurt this man who she had secretly loved for so long. She had driven him into the arms of another woman who had lied and used him but had given him the child he craved. Suddenly Jac felt uncharacteristically uncomfortable in her own skin, not knowing where best to place herself. _

_Possibly irrationally she was more than a little petrified of the tiny, unnamed, wriggling form in Joseph's arms. Scared because she only knew how to destroy, to cause pain and she really did not want to be that person anymore. And because the unconditional love she was witnessing would never be something she was included in. _

_As if he sensed her unease Joseph finally looked up and any thoughts of fleeing diminished when he bestowed a lazy smile upon her, the last time he smiled at her like that he had kissed her only a few short hours ago. His bright eyes filled with easy warmth, it was something she almost felt silly for taking comfort in. _

"_I want to thank you again but I fear I might becoming predictable" His voice calmed her as much as it visibly calmed his son. The gentle self-deprecation, the perfect pronunciation and deep timber was something that used to aggravate her till the moment she realised any annoyance was just a defence mechanism to stop herself finding it charming. She was so damn broken that she did not realise she was in love with this man until she had already caused the damage. _

"_Oh I don't want to be the one to break it to you Joe but you've always been predictable." There was safety in speaking in code. Sarcasm did not make her vulnerable and she trusted Joseph to be able to see the true meaning hidden under the sharp rise of an eyebrow. _

"_Only to you. Others might think the same but it's only ever been you." He moves closer to her. His voice thicker with emotion and he is so genuine she wants to run again or to impulsively tell him that she feels the same. That he knows her better than she knows herself and doesn't understand how he can know and yet not turn away from her._

_Her gaze settles on the broadness of his cheekbones, his eyes and the child too much for her. She twists her hands together and searches for what should come next. All this uncharted territory was doing little to settle her tired nerves and yet she would not trade this dramatic day for anything in the world. _

_Joseph gratefully chose to ignore her uncomfortable silence. He smiled at her again broadly, displaying neat rows of perfectly white teeth. "Would you like to hold him? I don't think I could ever put him down but he should really meet the woman who did so much to help bring him into the world."_

_Jac took a small step backwards and swallowed. "Nah, you've only just got him to stop crying. The dislike is mutual Joe, trust me."_

_His brow furrowed a little, "I do, trust you, I mean. I want you to mean something to him just like you mean so much to me."_

_Absently she rolled her eyes at just how soppy he could be but inside she was reeling. She was not this infant's mother; she was not a part of this family no matter how maybe one day she thought she might like to be. Faye had told her it should have been her giving birth and maybe she would have liked that but it was all part of another life. One where she was not so calloused that she was terrified of love and compassion, one where everything was not always so bloody complicated and uncertain. She could barely look at his child let alone touch him._

_Part of her wanted to cover her storming emotion with an angry vicious reply. If she hurt him now, pushed him away she would be safe to remain distant and unfeeling. But something forced her to bite her tongue. The idea of being that nasty made her feel physical nauseous. _

_Instead she took a deep breath and bit down on her bottom lip. "Not now okay. Just…not now." Honesty cost her but she relax when Joseph simply nodded in reply._

_Maybe she would not have to actually say why she felt a need to keep a distance and it was a relief. Already she felt a building affection towards the new born. Affection she could not afford. If she risked holding the child she would only start to care even more. It was not her place to bond with another woman's child. It wasn't even something she was sure she could do and she could not bare to let Joseph down again by hurting his son. _

_She was better of predicting the future and backing away now before it hurt too much for all involved. Instinctively she knew it was the only way for a chance of absolution. _


End file.
